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Religion of Author:
"Anglican"
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Politics of Author:
"Whig"
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Literary Period:
"Long Eighteenth Century"
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"Government"
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Nationality of Author:
"English"
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Date: 1687

"At this enrag'd, the injur'd Deity / Chose out the best of his Artillery, / And in a blooming Virgin's Dove-like Eyes / He planted his Victorious Batteries; / (Phillis her Name, the best of Woman-kind, / Could Love have gain'd the Empire of her Mind) / These shot so furiously against my Heart, /...

"Can it be a Fault to chuse a better for a worse, and don't all the thinking World agree that this state we are now in, is but a Slavery to sence, a bondage to dull matter, which tedders us down like our Brother Brutes, where we are not only exposed to want and misery, but to all the Insults and ...

"In correcting a Servant, he never us'd to be a Slave to his own Passions, common Justice, Reason, Pity and Humanity, as well as the Chamberlain, hindring him from making new Indentures on the Flesh of his Apprentice, though he might happen in some light instances to break the old."

"Lord of my self in Chief; when they that have / More Wealth, make that their Lord which is my Slave; / Yet I as well as they with more content, / Have in my self a Houshold-Government; / My Intellectual Soul hath there possest / The Steward's Place, to govern all the rest."

"Hunger will caper over stone Walls, I might add, over Hills set upon Hills, and therefore did I chuse in Affliction rather to make my Brains my Exchequer, than (like a Modest Gentleman) to groan under the Slavery of a Blushing Temper."